


Snowbaz Swim AU

by thecruciblegavemeyou



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: M/M, SnowBaz, Swim AU, Swimming AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-09-25 05:10:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9803969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecruciblegavemeyou/pseuds/thecruciblegavemeyou
Summary: penny forces simon to join a sport, and when simon realizes he cannot, in fact, swim, he requests baz's help





	1. chapter one

**Author's Note:**

> simon pov

“You need to join some kind of team this year Simon, for uni applications!” Penny nudged me. School had only started two weeks ago, and Penny was already all over me about uni. 

I didn’t want to think about leaving Watford. It was my favorite place. It was the perfect escape from my ass of a father, and the run down apartment he called home. Every summer I waited until it was time to go back to school. I tried not to think about my friends, Penny and Agatha, because then time would go slower. Just to tease me. I mean, I hoped Agatha and I would still be friends. We haven’t spoken since she broke up with me last spring. 

Watford also had the best food in the world. I have to find Cook Pritchard and beg her to teach me to make those cherry scones. 

I snorted. “Oh yeah, and what team are you joining?”

Penny had decided this year was the year I’d actually have to do stuff. She’d been worried about uni since we were seven, talking about being class president and running this club and that. Now she was class president, and she ran half the clubs at Watford. On top of that, she somehow got all of her homework done. I still wasn’t quite sure how. 

And now she wanted to join a sport.

“The volleyball team, with Agatha. I told you that!”

“I don’t play sports, Penny.”

“C'mon, Simon, there’s got to be some team you can join! What about boys volleyball?”  
  
“No-”  
  
“Track-”  
  
“They’re crazy, they run. _Willingly_. No.”  
  
“Football?”  
  
“Baz plays football-” How many times will she be able to roll her eyes before they get stuck in her head? I can’t be on a team with Baz. Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch. Bloody perfect git: best grades, best athlete, best violinist, best hair, best with the girls. They all want Baz. Even Agatha was into him, I was pretty sure she’d dumped me because she wanted Baz. I saw her on the pitch with him one night, about a week before we broke up. He was holding her hands. 

I never did figure out why Baz didn’t just take Agatha up on her offer. I’m damn sure he’s into her too. Even if he wasn’t he’d do it to spite me, the arse. Maybe his waiting game is some kind of plot. He’s always plotting my downfall. His flirting games with Agatha are part of it, part of his plot for my demise. 

But that’s not the worst part. The worst part is that he’s also my bloody roommate.

“Golf?”  
  
“Penny, golf is lame-”  
  
“Micah plays golf-”  
  
“Micah is lame- Ow! Merlin, Penny…” I complained, she punched my shoulder with that bloody ring on her finger.   
  
“It’s an heirloom, Simon.” She’d said.

Penny pulled yet another announcement flyer out of thin air. “What about the swim team?”  
  
“We have a swim team?” I knew Watford had a pool, but I didn’t think they actually did anything with it. Sometimes they did open swimming, I think. Agatha liked to go swim sometimes.

“Yeah.”  
  
“Penny, I can’t just up and join the swim team, are you crazy? I don’t know how to swim.” I’ve seen the Olympics, they do all different stuff. I can barely doggie paddle.

She waved the flyer in my face, as if I could read it when it’s three centimeters from my nose. “It says the team is no cut! C'mon, how many boys can you imagine are actually trying out for the swim team?” She mused, shoving the flyer into my hands, and turning into her class (advanced something or other). “Think about it.”   
  
I made it to my latin class three minutes late. Mino was staring at me expectantly, so I just shrugged. I was always late for latin. I still hadn’t quite figured out how Baz made it from our room to this class on time. It was literally the farthest classroom in the farthest building on campus. I took a seat. The only one left was next to Baz. Figures no one would want to sit next to the arse. 

I mean, he only had two friends, really. Some days I almost felt bad for him, but then I realized I only have two friends, if Agatha is even still my friend. 

* * *

I must’ve stared at the flyer for too long, because somehow I ended up on the pool deck, sitting on a damp bench with a ton of other guys. I think about half were here for the hell of it, like me. The coach was taking names and giving directions.   
  
“Newbies in the last lanes. Pretend you know what you’re doing, will you?”   
  
Someone dove into the first lane. Whoever it was obviously knew what they were doing, they had fancy-looking goggles and a cap thing on their head. They were all lean muscle. All the boys who were actually swimmers had knee length, skin tight suits. I didn’t realize people actually wore those. Coach Mino (latin teacher by day, swim coach by night) pointed all of us to a box of suits by the equipment room (what kind of equipment do they use for swimming? Don’t you just go up and down the pool?). 

I had no idea what size suit to grab. I just grabbed the first one I could get my hands on, and followed the rest of the boys back into the locker room.

I must’ve grabbed a size too small, because the suit was fucking tight. I felt exposed.

Once we’d all changed, we were forced to actually get in the water. I’d forgotten we’d actually have to get in. I’d been hoping we wouldn’t the first practice, really. None of us said much. All of the returning guys were laughing and joking around. Probably at our expense (I would, if I were in their shoes). 

And it was bloody freezing. Figures they wouldn’t bother to heat a pool no one uses. 

“We’re still doing a try out. Everyone’s going to swim ten 50’s, with ten seconds rest in between each. I’ll record your times and average them. You’ll be assigned cruise interval lanes depending on how fast you go.”  
  
Gareth tapped my shoulder, “What the fuck does that mean?”

I shrugged. 

“Pitch, would you grab my stopwatch, it’s in the office.” 

“Sure thing.” 

Baz climbed out of the pool. Baz swam too?  _Are you fucking kidding me?_


	2. chapter two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> team tryouts ft. very small swimsuits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> baz pov

He was staring at me. Those plain, suspicious blue eyes boring into my skull. For the first time in my life, I felt self-conscious in the pool. Especially wearing my cap (my hair was just too long to swim without one—I tried it once and it got in my mouth and I couldn’t breathe—it’s horrific). The pool at Watford -however freezing and over-chlorinated- was always my safe place. Nobody could get me here, nobody could beat me here. I mean, I held the school record for the 500 and the 200. 

I started swimming after Mum died. She’d always wanted me to swim when I was little, and brought me to all sorts of lessons. I think she loved the sport because Fiona and her swam as kids. She thought I might be good at it, I suppose (she was right). My mom’s name was still on the wall of records. She still holds the school record for the 100 breaststroke. After she died, it was something I threw myself into so I didn’t think about her. I just stared at that bloody black line and did laps until I was too exhausted to think about her. 

The team at Watford was a bit of a joke. Half the boys here had no idea what they were doing — Snow included. What the bloody fuck was he doing here?

Probably here to impress Wellbelove. They’d been on-again off-again for two years, because Wellbelove couldn’t see a good thing when she had it. 

I wish he was here to impress me. I’d been in love with the bloody idiot since second year. Living with him was torture. Knowing he was insufferably straight and despised me was unbearable. 

I glanced at him over my shoulder as I pulled myself out of the pool. He had the nerve to look angry at me. 

I can’t wait to watch him do the ten 50’s. It’ll be laughable. Watching any of the newbies swim is always fun. Coach can’t cut any of them, though — we still never have enough. If they all stay, we’ll have enough boys to properly compete this year. As much as I don’t want to watch Snow parade around in a fucking speedo, I need him to stay. 

I compete at home over the summer, and the first year I joined at Watford we had enough boys to compete, but then all our eighth years graduated. 

I walked back out of the office, and held out Coach’s stopwatch. I could still feel Snow’s eyes on my back as I jumped back into my lane.

I was the first one done with the ten 50s. I sat up on the gutter and watched the newbies flailing. It was laughable, really. A few other returning swimmers joined me in the gutter soon enough. The ten 50s are quite short if you know how to swim. 

My eyes drifted to Snow. I could see the muscles in his back shifting with each stroke. If it could be called a stroke: he looked like he was drowning. But he was strong enough that he was powering through the water anyways, like a bloody wrecking ball. I watched him finish into the wall, and Coach called out his time. 

I snorted and he whipped around to glare at me. I wonder if he knew he looked more like a pouting first year than anyone remotely intimidating. I smirked, and he flipped me off. He was still red and panting, probably shocked along with everyone else that swimming isn’t easy. 

“What is it with you guys?” Niall asked. I shrugged, but I knew the answer (hatred and unrequited love).

“Congrats! You all made the team.” Coach called out sarcastically, “Now you all have to learn how to swim.” 

Coach spent the next hour and a half going over the strokes. 

Despite it feeling ridiculous to relearn the basics, I always loved the first practice. Being in the pool again was refreshing, and it wasn’t hard enough yet for me to remember how much I hated it. I grabbed my gear bag and followed the other boys into the locker room to shower off. The Watford pool had obnoxious levels of chlorine. 

* * *

I was halfway across the courtyard when he grabbed my shoulder, and spun me around. 

“Crowley, Snow—”

“Since when do you swim?” He asked. 

He was out of breath. Did he run across the whole courtyard? He should cut back on those scones he’s always shoveling into his mouth, I’m surprised Bunce hasn’t scolded him yet. “What?” 

“Since when?” He asked again. Truly the most impatient, insufferable person I’ve ever met. 

“First year, Snow.” How in the world hadn’t he noticed? He might as well have stalked me for all of fifth year (the one time he was patient, following me around campus all damn night). 

“Why?” He looked genuinely confused. Like a lost puppy. It would be endearing if his bronze curls weren’t sopping wet and flat, plastered to the sides of his face. It took all of my self-control not to laugh at him or kiss him. Maybe introduce him to a hair dryer.

“Excuse me?” 

“You play football. Why do you swim too?” 

“None of your fucking business, Snow.” I snapped. He shrugged, I wondered for a second how Bunce had a conversation with someone so fluent in shrugging, but she talks enough for the both of them. 

“Can you teach me?”

“To swim?” 

“Yes. Baz, will you please teach me to swim?” He looked like the act of begging me for help was going to make him sick. 

“Why? Is this for Wellbelove? Are you lovebirds on the fritz yet again?” I mused. The thought of him and Wellbelove together made me ill. 

“Yes. She broke up with me last spring. Surely you of all people remember.” I did remember, I was out on the football pitch when Wellbelove came to hit on me (again). I could spy Snow still in the stands out of the corner of my eye, so I grabbed her hands in my own and humoured her. I could at least pretend the jealousy in his eyes had been for me.

Snow didn’t speak to me the rest of that year. It was impressive—not that we ever spoke often. But he didn’t rise to a single taunt I threw at him. 

“I’m sure you’ll work it out.” They always did. Everybody knew they were going to end up together. She was his golden destiny, I was going to run into them at the club someday, and Wellbelove would chase around their blue-eyed, golden-haired children, and Snow would follow her around and—

“So?” Was he always this impatient? No wonder Bunce is crazy. 

“What?”

“Will you teach me how to swim?” Snow, alone with me, in a pool? It was like one of my fucking fifth year fantasies. 

I couldn’t help myself. 

“Sure, Snow. Why the hell not.” I rolled my eyes. He beamed, and walked the rest of the way back to our dorm with me.  

After eight years of sharing a room and sharing classes, I’m not sure we ever walked together.


	3. chapter three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> simon pov againnnn; baz and simon's first private lesson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these were all first posted on my tumblr (same url)

I immediately regretted my decision to ask for for swim lessons when he started shaking me awake at 5:30 am. 

“What the hell, Baz…” I moaned, rolling back over. He tugged all the blankets off my bed and the cold air hit me like a brick. 

I sat up straight. Baz was smirking (again). He was already dressed and had a tattered gym bag slung over his shoulder. It smelled vaguely of chlorine. 

“Let’s go, Snow. We don’t have all morning.” He threw a tiny piece of fabric at my face, and in my dazed state it took me a minute to realize it was a swimsuit. It looked ten sizes too small. 

“What the hell?” 

“Are those the only words in your vocabulary? Get a move on, will you?” Baz sneered and started for the door. 

I rushed into the bathroom to change and when I came back out, Baz was gone. I rushed down the stairs and out of our dorm and was shocked to realize it was still dark out. I regretted not pulling on a jumper, but I was already too late to go back up and get one. It was freezing this time in the morning. I started running towards the pool, and found I kinda liked the way campus looked when it was dead. It was calm and the sun was just starting to turn the horizon the palest shades of pink and orange. 

I had to walk halfway around the pool until I found the side door unlocked. Baz must have a key. 

The smell of chlorine almost knocked me off my feet. Baz was already calmly taking the covers off the stand thingies at the ends of the lanes. Something was different about him. It took me a second to realize he had put his hair up. In the seven years I’d lived with Baz, never once had I seen him put his hair up like that. He looked up and caught me staring, and crossed his arms over his chest. 

“What do you know about swimming?” Baz asked, raising an eyebrow. 

I winced, “Michael Phelps?”

“Do you even know what his event is?” Baz asked before reconsidering, “no, don’t answer that. I already know the answer. He’s a flyer, Snow. His event is the 100 meter butterfly.” 

Baz sighed again, “I guess I’ll start by teaching you the four different strokes. In IM order, there’s fly, back, breast, and free.” 

In one seamless moment, Baz ditched his shorts and shirt and gestured for me to do the same. I was relieved to see that he was in a suit as small as mine and that he hadn’t been plotting to embarrass me this whole time (which is good, because I’m perfectly capable of humiliating myself). He pulled out two caps that were tucked into the edges of his swim shorts and popped the sleek black one on his head. 

He tossed the pastel pink one to me. Git. “Do I have to wear this?”

“Not in practice, but I imagine you don’t want to choke on your own hair. Those curls are probably much longer when wet.” (He was right). 

After four failed attempts to put the cap on my head and each time resulting bits of my hair being ripped from my skull by the silicone, Baz scoffed. “Crowley Snow, we only have an hour and a half left at this point. Just let me cap you.” 

My unique ability to embarrass the hell out of myself quickly reared its ugly head as I attempted to imitate the butterfly that Baz showed me. He made it look fun and graceful and then had the audacity to say it was his worst stroke. 

Well, it was not fun or graceful. By the time I came back up for air, Baz was laughing so hard that he was gripping the lane line and gasping for breath, “you look like a fish out of water!”

I only tried to swim fly down the length of the pool once and even that had my shoulders burning. Baz said I wasn’t kicking enough and then informed me that in a race, I would’ve had to swim up and down the pool four times (100 meters, I think). 

We ran through the three other strokes and Baz explained lengths and events and heats and what an IM was (apparently there’s a race where you have to swim all the strokes together. It sounds like the definition of hell). All of the names and terms made my head spin. 

By the time 7:30 rolled around, I was ready to climb back into bed. Instead, I followed Baz silently into the locker room and tried to find the shower farthest from him. I did my best to rinse all of the chlorine from my hair, but the Watford pool was more chlorine than water by my estimate and even after I was done my hair still felt gross and tacky. 

After changing in silence (which was normal for us, anyways) I tried to return the cap, suit, and goggles to Baz. He shook his head, “aren’t you going to need them? I have a ton of spares. Just keep them for the season. Unless of course, you’ve decided to quit.” He taunted. 

“No, no… I’m not quitting. Thanks for… yeah.” 

By the time I finished changing, Baz had already disappeared. I was secretly proud of myself for making it through a morning alone with Baz and neither of us killing each other. If I’m honest, a certain, small intervals of time, it was almost fun. Almost. 

Leaving the pool was blinding. Campus was all filled up with people again and the sky was cloudless and blue. The fog of calm from the morning was gone. I joined the crowd towards the dining hall and followed the scent of cherry scones to Penny. 

“How was your first practice last night on the swim team?” Penny asked as soon as I sat down. She already had a plate of scones ready for me. 

“Did you know Baz swam? Apparently he’s really good. The best on the team. You should see him do the freestyle, Penny.”

She raised an eyebrow, “you guys didn’t kill each other?” Penny sounded amazed. I felt myself blush a little. 

“No, probably because he swims in the first lane by himself, and I’m in the last lane with all of the newbies.” I scanned across the cafeteria and noticed Agatha sitting with Baz. I felt anger burning at the back of my throat, before I remembered we broke up. She could sit wherever (but why Baz? My evil roommate, really?). The grin fell off my face.

* * *

“Get up, Snow.” 

“What? This is going to be an every morning thing?” 

“Until you can swim, yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 530 am practices are indeed a thing. 530 am practice on my birthday is indeed a thing. if anyone has any questions about swimming or the fic hmu


	4. chapter four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> baz misses a morning practice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> baz pov! look, i updated when i said i would! WHAT EVEN

**** I was leaving practice Monday night when I got the call. Fiona hadn’t sounded that distressed since my mother died, which is how I knew something was wrong. 

Everything had been going so well for me, too. My grades were up, we had just enough boys to compete this year (and our first meet was this Saturday), Snow and I practiced together every morning and night and we’d started walking places together. Not saying anything, but that meant that we weren’t fighting. I could feel myself want to start a fight with him, because with him being this nice to me I was screwed. I couldn’t get him out of my head. 

Even as I drove through the night to Hampshire to see Mordi in the hospital, I couldn’t stop the images of Snow that were running through my head. 

Snow laughing at early morning practices. Snow trying to do the fly again (he secretly loved it. I could see it. He wanted to beat out Dev as the first seat flyer by the end of the season, which would be an incredible feat). But he had the shoulders for it. 

I tried to ignore the images of Snow running around in that tight bathing suit. It was torture. I’m honestly glad I didn’t have to swim so close to him in the afternoons too; I would lose it. 

He wasn’t in the sixth lane anymore, though. Our morning practices were helping. He’d moved up to the fourth lane. His technique was impressive; he had learned surprisingly fast. His endurance wasn’t up to par yet (but neither was mine, we were still building yardage at practice). And I’d caught him and Gareth trying to lift together in the gym one Saturday (at least I wasn’t the only one smitten with the golden boy; a number of girls in our class had been watching through the windows). I even saw Wellbelove walk past and take a second glance. 

I wanted to tell her to fuck off.

By the time I reached the hospital at three in the morning, visiting hours were over. I should’ve expected that. Fiona had even told me to wait until morning. I didn’t really have the self-control at this point (all of my self-control went into not kissing Snow at morning practice). 

I banged on the doors until security threatened to make sure I wouldn’t be allowed inside once the doors opened in the morning, so I kicked over the nearest garbage can. I napped in my car until Daphne knocked on my car window. 

“Basil, the hospital just opened.” She called through the glass. I stalked inside behind her and my father. 

He still wasn’t speaking to me, but I didn’t mind too much because conversations with my father had never been particularly pleasant. When he found out I was gay, it was just another disappointment to add to the list. 

The hospital seemed deathly quiet as we made our way to Mordelia’s ward. The only noise was Daphne’s clicking heels and soft elevator music playing in the background. It made me itch; I would rather it was silent. 

Nurses and doctors all blended together as they rushed from point A to point B. everything was white and sterile and mute. All the smells and sounds and colors blended together. I ignored the rumbling in my stomach and followed Daphne into a blank, white-walled room. The room felt as dead as the rest of the hospital. The only sound was soft breathing and the persistent beep of machines. I hated hospitals.

Mordelia was just waking up when we walked in, so we all tried to stay quiet. When my father and Daphne went to talk to the doctors, I took a seat next to Mordi on the bed. I watched her chest rise and fall as the nurse quietly checked her vitals and checked the drip she was hooked up to. 

I hated seeing my sister like this. She looked so vulnerable. I decided to keep that to myself (even if she was dying, she’d summon the strength to punch me for a comment like that). Her eyes fluttered open, and she greeted me with a wide smile. 

“What happened?” I asked. She looked sickly and pale still. Fiona had been very vague over the phone about what had landed my eleven year old sister in the hospital. 

“Dehydration. I got the stomach bug at school and kept throwing up.” She shrugged, “At least I keep to keep missing school.” 

I couldn’t help but laugh. I laid down next to her and snuck her her phone from Daphne’s purse. We snickered as she scrolled through her instagram, taunting the other girls from her school. She hated her all-girls boarding school, but Daphne had insisted. I missed hanging out with my sister during the summer. I rarely got to talk with her during the school year. The rest of our siblings were still too young to hold an intelligent conversation. 

Around eleven thirty the nurses brought Mordelia some lunch and I remembered how hungry I was. It was lunchtime at Watford and I had skipped breakfast. I also needed to get back. Even if I left now, I probably wouldn’t make it back in time for the start of practice. I definitely couldn’t miss another day of classes. Dev and Niall had been texting all day in a groupchat i’d forgotten we had. 

(07:23) **Dev:** _mate where the fuck r u_

(07:23) **Niall:** _fucking answer would you_

(09:02) **Dev:** _bazzzzzzzz_

(09:20)  **Niall:** _ i stg mate _

(010:36) **Niall:** _your cars gone where the fuck did you go_

(011:50)  **Baz:** _ tell coach im sick _

(011:54)  **Dev:** _ hes not gonna believe that. youre never sick  _

(011:55)  **Dev:** _ where did you go _

(012:14)  **Dev:** _ are you fucking with me _

I didn’t bother trying to find Daphne and my father before I left, but I did send Mordi a bouquet of flowers from the gift shop for when she woke up again. Hopefully Daphne wouldn’t notice her phone gone from her bag. _ I’d text her later _ , I promised myself as I hopped back in my car. 

I cranked up the volume and kept my eyes on the road, praying they wouldn’t close on me before I reached Watford. 

I stumbled back to the dorms across campus in the dark, ignoring the small groups of giggling drunks trying to be discreet, hushing and tripping over each other in the moonlight. I could smell the alcohol from halfway across the courtyard. I figured at this point the teachers just didn’t really give a shit.

I winced as the dorm door creaked, I prayed Snow would sleep through it. Unfortunately, he had always been a light sleeper and he was staring at me when I walked in. He was sitting straight up in bed, he had obviously been asleep: his curls were everywhere. I stifled a laugh and switched on his lamp so I didn’t trip over his dirty clothes. The soggy bathing suits that had been added to his collection of dirty clothes meant that our room always smelled vaguely of chlorine. 

“Where the fuck  _ were you? _ ” He growled. I couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so angry with me (maybe when I held hands with Agatha?). There was fire in his eyes, and it might’ve been the exhaustion, but I could almost see steam coming out of his ears. 

“What?” I raised an eyebrow at him. Other than smirking, that was the one thing sure to set him off. I’m convinced it only pisses him off so much because he can’t raise one eyebrow (despite the number of times I’d overheard him insist that Bunce teach him how).

“I waited for you all morning at the pool! And then you never showed up to practice either!  _ What the hell Baz _ ?” 

I could feel anger bubbling inside me, “I was busy.” Selfish bastard. I kicked his shoes aside, and made my way towards our bathroom. 

“Where did you go?” he was still seething. Snow never knew when to let things go, did he?

I didn’t even realize he enjoyed morning practices that much. I ignored the way my heart lurched at the possibility. The possibility that maybe he enjoyed our time together.

“None of your fucking business, Snow.” I rolled my eyes and tossed my jumper on the bed. The stress of the day was getting to me. I was just happy Mordi would be okay. Eventually, I mean; she still looked like hell when I saw her. At least it wasn’t serious. Maybe I’d try to drive down and see her again on Sunday. Sunday was the only day we didn’t practice.

“ _ Yes,  _ it is! You promised to train me!” he whined. I wanted to choke him. Or kiss him. I still couldn’t figure out which. And I still couldn’t figure out how I’d managed to fall for someone who drove me so  _ crazy _ . 

I spun around to face him. He was sitting on the edge of his bed now, in his boxers, arms across his chest (he really was starting to look more filled out. His scone-pudge was slowly receding. I couldn’t tell if I liked it or not). 

“Alright Snow,  _ fine _ . I drove to Hampshire to see my sister in the hospital.” I snapped and slammed the bathroom door behind me. 

When I came back out Snow was asleep again. Figures. I turned off all the lights, and crawled into bed. 


	5. chapter five

Immediately after Baz admitted driving out to see his sister in the hospital, I felt the guilt pooling in the pit of my stomach. And I’d been _such_ an ass too. Baz didn’t even have to agree to practice with me, in fact, he hated me. We were enemies. I was still shocked that he’d helped me in the first place.

I could hear him turn the shower on and I decided barging in on his shower wasn’t the best way to apologize. I decided to head downstairs and give him a little space.

I had to admit, I really liked morning practices. Baz was even a little _fun_ to be around before he was awake enough to remember how much he despised me. And, he was a great teacher. I had already moved up two lanes in practice, and I was keeping up with some of the boys who had started last year (they weren’t that great, _I_ wasn’t that great, but I was ahead of the curve).

We had our first meet this weekend, too. Coach said he’d have a lineup for us tomorrow. I don’t think that I’ll be in any scoring events, but if I’m lucky he might put me in the 100 fly exhibition. I asked Baz to put in a good word for me. Coach loved Baz; he was the perfect student, and a really talented swimmer (I couldn’t wait to see him race this weekend).

I made my way across campus to the kitchens, avoiding the groups of students I passed along the way. I wasn’t quite in the mood for small talk. By the time I made it to the kitchens, I had an epiphany. Baz had looked horribly starved when he stumbled into our room tonight. In the space of three minutes, his stomach had rumbled five times. Maybe he’d forgive me for being an ass if I got him some food.

I snuck through the back door, and snagged a plate of scones from the bin of them they kept for the morning. Nobody would notice.

As I made my way back to our room, it started snowing. I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face as I felt a flake land on my nose. I loved the snow.

When I returned to our room, Baz was sat on his bed with a towel wrapped around his waist, checking his phone. I made my way over to him, and stood in front of him. He didn’t look up. I cleared my throat. He finally looked up, and cocked a brow at me (once, I spent an hour in the mirror trying to figure out how he did that).

“Yes, Snow?” he asked.

“I, um- okay so i felt bad, that like, you know - and walking... so, scones?” I held out a napkin with the three scones I had leftover (my self-control was improving).

He was laughing. I felt my face heat up.

“Is this an apology?” He asked.

I nodded. I saw his mouth turn up at the corners. It wasn’t much, but it might be the first time Baz ever genuinely smiled at me (when he wasn’t laughing at me). He unraveled the napkin carefully, with those graceful, long fingers as his stomach rumbled again. He could be a hand model. Or a model in general. Or both, actually. Baz was… genetically gifted.

I didn’t want to make the situation even more awkward by standing in front of him as he ate, naked on his bed, so I decided to go take a shower.

As I stepped into the steam, the smell of chlorine began to rise from my skin again. Yesterday in class, I’d rested my head on my arm and only smelled chlorine. I swear, I was half chlorine at this point. Penny had even commented on the smell in lunch.

And my _hair_ . Merlin, I couldn’t even run my hands through it anymore. They got stuck. My hair felt rough and almost sticky, but in a really dry way. Like dragging your hands across plastic, and it makes a horrific tearing, squeaking noise. Maybe Baz could fix it. His hair was still as soft as ever. Well, it still _looked_ as soft as ever.

By the time I was out of the shower, he was asleep. I made a mental note to ask him about it tomorrow.

* * *

We both woke up too late for morning practice on Wednesday. Well, actually, Baz woke up too late, but he’d looked so exhausted that I didn’t want to risk invoking his wrath by waking him up. Apparently, it was a lose-lose situation, because he was livid when he realized it was too late to go down to the pool.

Anyways, I was really behind on my schoolwork. Practicing morning and night didn’t exactly leave me with much time for anything else. I quietly shuffled through some assignments and landed on the packet of maths I had due at the end of today. Maybe I could turn in one thing on time.

I was halfway through the third page when Baz woke up, sitting straight up in bed. I stifled a giggle. His hair was a mess, sticking out in all directions. And it was all wavy, with little curls. He always woke up like that, and he always straightened senseless. He hated it. Baz’s curls were his dirty little secret.

“Fuck, Snow, why didn’t you wake me? We won’t have any time to practice this morning!” he snapped at me, throwing his blankets off. I was speechless, so I just stood there open-mouthed.

“You came back super late! I thought you needed to sleep! I just can’t win with you!” I scoffed. He truly was insufferable. I tugged on my uniform jumper and slammed the door behind me, leaving my half-done maths on my bed.

The gloomy weather did nothing for my rage and I stomped my way to the dining hall. I seethed as I sat down next to Agatha at breakfast. Penny was nowhere in sight.

“Where’s Pen?” I asked nervously. I hadn’t been alone with her since we broke up. She didn’t look uncomfortable though, so I pushed the feeling to the back of my mind.

“Didn’t she text you? She’s sick today. Apparently she caught the bug that was going around.” I instantly cringed, flashing back to Gareth emptying his stomach on deck Monday night.

“Oh.”

She pushed the butter dish towards me, “We should stop by and bring her some soup. I’m sure you can convince Cook Pritchard to make a batch.”

My stomach flipped. _We_? I’m over thinking it, I always overthink (or underthink) our-

“Speaking of _we_ , Simon… I think we should give dating another try. I miss hanging out with you.” She said, staring straight at me.

I dropped the knife. Agatha watched me intensely as I scrambled to get it.

“I uh, yeah, Ags, I’d love that.” I smiled. She was blushing. The rouge looked really bright against her delicate pale skin and hair. I reached out and twined her (cold) fingers with mine (her fingers were always cold).

I kissed her on the cheek as we parted ways after breakfast, and I could almost hear the buzz start. The rumours were about to blow up again. I couldn’t really bring myself to care as I reached for my phone to text Penny.

I froze as I looked at the lone notification on my screen.

 _Missed call from_ **_David Snow_ **

For the third time that morning, my stomach bottomed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mini angsty cliffhanger? mini angsty cliffhanger.


	6. chapter six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> what? she's continuing it? after pretending to be dead for two months? whats this? (actually so fucking sorry i want to finish another chapter tomorrow night I think ive found my inspiration for this again)

**Baz**

After my spat with Snow, it took me a minute to regain my composure. I could hear him stomping down the stairs (he always did that when he was mad. Like a child). I don’t know why I overreacted. Maybe it was just bad habits returning. Arguing with Snow was second nature. Like riding a bike.

We’d both been on such good terms lately, I was just waiting for it all to go wrong. Because that’s how things go in my life.

 _Wrong_.

I imagine that if I still had a heart, it’d be beating pretty fast right now. Snow brought me his beloved scones to apologize (and didn’t eat them all before he got to me). And then he let me sleep in. Because he thought I was exhausted.

And I thought he was just sick of me.

Being friends (I think) with Snow was my best daydream and my worst nightmare rolled into one. On one hand, I got to spend time alone with Snow, swimming and joking and laughing and pretending that I didn’t once push him down a flight of stairs because he smiled at me. On the other hand, I had to spend time _alone_ with Snow _laughing and joking and smiling at me_. Like a fucking ball of sunshine. No wonder the entirety of Watford spun around him.

Dev and Niall (and Bunce) were all suspicious. Bunce had come up to me in history a week ago to threaten me to leave Snow alone. Apparently she doesn’t have a clue what we’re doing. Dev and Niall had started pestering me with questions at mealtimes. And any other time they could get a hold of me. Even Wellbelove had noticed something was up, I think. She’d started lingering behind me or Snow, coming to watch practices, and she’d started sitting with Snow at meals again. I ignored how much that annoyed me. Especially when he smiled at her. Aleister Crowley, I’m a selfish bastard; I’d lock Snow away and keep all his sunshine for myself if I could.

I pushed the budding guilt from my spat with Snow back down, and readjusted my tie. Fuck Snow.

I was (fashionably) late to my first class and I could feel Snow’s eyes on me as I strolled towards my seat. The professor didn’t even notice my tardiness, or if she did she knew better than to say anything. My mother may not be the headmaster anymore, but her influence still lingered over Watford like the fresh dusting of snow that covered the courtyards this morning.

It was hard to focus on class with Snow boring holes in my back, but I managed. I also decidedly despised chemistry. Who gives a fuck about titrations (what the fuck _is_ a titration?).

I concluded that Snow was still bitter with me when he “accidentally” knocked over the solution I’d spent the last hour of class prepping for my lab. The sound of shattered glass caused everyone to freeze. Within in seconds the entire class was staring. And whispering.

“What the fuck, Snow?” I hissed. He shrugged, but I could see the gleam in his eyes. I started grabbing the shards of glass that littered my desk and ignored the little drops of blood that had begun to seep from my torn fingertips. What an arse he was.

And now my solution was gone. I’d have to redo the entire lab after-school if I wanted a passing grade. With my luck, the professor hadn’t even seen Snow intentionally fuck me over, so the chances of getting an extension were slim.

I reached for the paper towels as the bell rang, and the classroom was quickly abandoned. I could hear Bunce berating Snow as they passed by me and I resisted the urge to stick a leg out and trip him (I almost felt bad, he was all too capable of tripping himself).

The solution had spilled all down the front of my shirt. My brand new, clean, white shirt. I stormed out of class ten minutes late, after having cleaned up the broken glass, blood, and whatever solution wasn’t on my shirt. The little cuts on my fingers were starting to burn. By the time I made it back to my room, I’d also gotten blood all down the front of my shirt trying to unbutton it. I tossed the bloody rag of a shirt on Snow’s bed and made my way into the shower.

I decided to blow off classes for the rest of the day, because I didn’t really feel like seeing Snow. I don’t think I could handle his presence right now. He was too much, all the time.

By the time Snow made it back to the room, I was fast asleep. Or I was, until he barged in (clumsy arse). He stumbled around in the darkness, stubbing his toe twice and almost falling on top of me before making it to his bed.

“Baz, what the fuck?” he shouted, tossing my bloody shirt back at me. Some of my blood was own his pillow.

“I just thought you’d like to admire your handiwork, you see.” I smirked, and he took a second glance at the shirt. He almost looked guilty.

“I-um… Baz? I’m… sorry. Really. I’m sorry for not waking you up too, I just thought you’d want to sleep. And I thought you probably hated coaching me in the morning, and now I feel really bad for asking you to do that.”

“You’re… what? Why do you feel bad?”

“Because I have to quit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also ik its like hella short but ill try to update tomorrow so


	7. chapter seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> look at that just two days and im back again (this one's longer too)

_ Simon _

“You’re… What?” Baz looked dumbfounded. Honestly, I’ve never seen him at a loss for words before, but it’s not nearly as satisfying as I thought it would be. I shuffled back and forth on my feet, feeling stupid just standing in front of him. I could hear faint laughter outside (bet they’re having a bit more fun than I am right now). 

I mumble, “I’m just overwhelmed right now-” 

He narrowed his perfect grey eyes at me. “Are you fucking serious, Snow? You’re  _ overwhelmed? _ By what?” he snapped. He looked like he wanted to tear my throat out (when I was a first year, I really thought he could. I was convinced he was a vampire). I hadn’t realized that he was going to be this mad about wasting his training time with me. 

Mad enough to storm out, leaving me in hollow silence with only the sounds of the birds and the trees and the laughing first years to keep me company (I swear, they were mocking me). 

I carefully made my way around the room, avoiding Baz’s things like the plague (he always knew when I touched his stuff. Like magic). 

I opened my phone to text him an apology, and found the same notification staring back at me. My throat went dry. 

_ Missed call from  _ **_David Snow_ **

I swallowed my dignity and pushed call back. The three shrill rings of the phone startled me each time, but not as much as when he actually picked up.

“Simon,” he huffed. I could see him in my mind; David Snow, draped across Mom’s dirty green lazy boy in the corner of the lounge. David Snow, tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair and waiting impatiently… for something. Sometimes I’m convinced he’s waiting for Mom to come home, but even he’s not crazy enough to know she could ever return. 

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, “Hi… Dad.” 

“I need to borrow some money.”

“I-I don’t have any-” I’d known him all my life and he still managed to catch me off guard every time; every word, every move, every look. I should have expected this. For as long as I could remember, David Snow’s world centered around money, but Mom used to tell me stories of their teenage years, “ _ he’s a good man. He just lost himself a few years ago. When we were younger, he talked about us raising a big family, traveling the world… _ ” 

She always used to get this look in her eyes, “ _ I miss my Davy. We just have to be patient, my rosebud boy. He’ll come back to us. He loves you. He loves me. _ ” I wasn’t ever sure if she was trying to reassure me or herself. 

Davy was dead. David Snow was a crook, a con man, a swindler. He took people’s money, he drained them dry. Then he gambled it away because life was a game to him (he wasn’t so good gambling, though). Every cent went toward his next casino trip, and every ounce of his frustration after every loss went to me. 

“I lost three big ones last night. And the stash of cash, that one you keep under the bed from summer? That’s gone. I need a few grand, I owe a man from a game a few weeks back.” 

David Snow was a gangly man with a twisted mustache and bushy eyebrows. He smiled like the sun, but his eyes gleamed like the devil. Too bad it was easier for strangers to pretend the smile was real. 

“When did you… how did you find my-” My heart skipped a beat. I could imagine him sitting there, maybe twisting his mustache like the devil reincarnated. 

David Snow didn’t have a clean cent to his filthy name and my scholarship to Watford was the only reason I was here. Sometimes, I don’t even know why I was granted the scholarship. Maybe it was my mother, watching over me. This school was the only barrier between me and him. This school was my personal miracle. 

I don’t think anyone else loved this school like I did (maybe Baz did). I sure hoped no one else had a reason to love it like I did. 

“Dad.... I don’t… that was my only-”  _ That money was my college tuition. I saved that money working two mind-numbing part-times jobs over the past four summers.  _

“Don’t stutter, boy.”

Maybe Lucy Snow was trying to reassure me, or herself. Evidently, it didn’t work on either of us. Sometimes I wish she’d taken me with her the night that she left. Other times I’m glad she didn’t, because she only made it two blocks before a drunk driver smashed her car to pieces (life was twisted). It was like shooting a bird that finally learned to fly. 

“I need three grand by next week, Simon. I’ll see you then.”  _ Click.  _ I had one week to come up with three grand or a plan to stop David Snow. 

I’d rather make a deal with the devil. I still had places to go, and I had Agatha and Penny and a life waiting for me beyond Watford and beyond the dingy shack my father considered a house. I wanted to leave. I wanted to leave, and I wasn’t going to look back for a second. I just needed to be free of my father. So I need to pay my dues (literally). 

I shakily set the phone down on my desk and a tired laugh escaped me as I put my head in my hands. I could ask Agatha for the money; her family was loaded. I didn’t really want to fuck up our relationship again though, either. 

There wasn’t a single scenario in which I could get three grand to David Snow in a week, not unless I wired him to the account my mother set up before she left. The last few cents to my name, my safety net. 

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, then jumped to the sound of knuckles on wood. 

“Come in?” I mumbled, peeking through my fingers. 

Agatha swept into the room like a damn daydream, a tupperware in one hand and the other pushing back her silky blonde hair (I once asked her if she dyed it that blonde, but then she didn’t talk to to me for two days, and Penny flicked me upside the head). “Hey, Si, I got some soup from Cook Pritchard. Do you want to head over to Penny’s with me?” 

She was like an angel sent to save me from myself, “Yeah, yeah. Perfect. Let’s go.” I stood up and followed her out the door without a second thought. 

I should have taken a second thought, at least for a damn jumper. It was bloody freezing and it was raining. So much for snow (even if it had been only a dusting). Maybe someday I’d move north, or to the Alps. Somewhere with snow, somewhere without Snow. 

Halfway across the courtyard, I spotted Baz pacing by the gates, talking angrily on the phone (seems like no one is having any luck with phone calls today). I caught his gaze and he sneered at me. I twined my fingers with Agatha’s and didn’t break his hard stare. 

“We should go say hi to Baz, you guys actually seem like you’ve been on good terms lately-” 

“No, no… we aren’t.” I snapped, tugging Agatha towards the girls dorms. I could feel her watching me, with that face of innocent confusion she wore so well.

I hated going through the girls dorm, making my way to Penny’s room felt like being a lab-rat in a maze. Someone designed this building purely to torture me, but Agatha knew where to go. I followed he and tried not to notice the stares and whispers, the pointing. My relationship with Agatha (and Penny for that matter) was always a favorite topic of Watford gossip. By tomorrow, the custodial staff would know that I was seen with her.

“Finally, I’ve been waiting for you two for hours.” Penny complained, reaching for the soup.


	8. chapter eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> two simon chapters in a row (a lot had to happen)

**Simon**

I shuffled back and forth as Agatha twisted the lid off the soup while Penny argued she could do it herself. 

“Si, stop fidgeting and just sit!” Pen hissed, glancing at me from her bed. 

I slunk over to Trixie’s desk on the other side of the room. “Sorry. How do you feel?” I asked, spinning in slow circles on Trixie’s desk chair. 

“Oh, just  _ peachy.  _ I love being on lockdown with my insufferable roommate for thirty six hours straight.” She moaned. 

Pen’s roommate Trixie was… interesting. Penny got frustrated with her because she’d walked in on Trixie and her girlfriend Keris fooling around 100 times too many. 

“I don’t have a problem with their  _ relationship _ , I have a problem with them  _ fooling around on my bed _ .” Penny explained, frustrated enough for wild arm movements.

My roommate might be out to kill me, but at least he didn’t bring girls back to the room. Sometimes we could hear the boys below us messing around. I don’t think the ceilings are as thick as the boys think they are (I wish that they didn’t enjoy  _ narrating _ it so much).

I was always surprised that Baz never brought girls back. Maybe he does, but only when I’m not there. But I would’ve caught him at least once, I think. Every girl in our class is in love with him, it’s not like he’d have any trouble with it. Maybe I’ll ask him later. Or maybe not. We might still be fighting from this morning. I wonder what would happen if I asked him about girls. He might finally take me out. 

“What’d she do this time?” I indulged her. She liked complaining about Trixie as much as I used to enjoy complaining about Baz. 

“She just… she tried to read me a book, and her and Trixie took turns acting it out,” She shuddered,  “acting is not a talent either of them possess.” I could see them now. They were a colorful pair. 

Agatha laughed softly. It wasn’t quite giggling, but more light and airy. Like a butterfly. But it didn’t make me blush the way it used to. I dug my fingers into my palms and watched Penny and Agatha as she tried to force feed Pen the soup, only managing to pour it down her shirt. Penny shrieked and Agatha rushed for the tissues. 

“Penny, have you finished that assignment for drawing and painting yet?” 

“No, and I still can’t believe you convinced me to take that bloody art class with you.”

Agatha smirked. “It’s fun.”

“It’s a waste of time.” Anything that didn’t involve books was a waste of time to Penny. She read more than any person I’d ever met. I promised her when we were little that if I ever became rich I’d buy her the biggest library in the world, “ _ My personal Library of Alexandria. _ ” She’d said. I still don’t know what she meant by that (must be a big library). 

“It’s good for you. Art is relaxing.” Agatha argued. She was a decent artist. She really liked doodling other people. When I first met her, I thought the portraits of our classmates in the margins of her notes were creepy (they were still a little odd) but they were so good that you couldn’t help being impressed. 

“Art is annoying, it never looks the way you want it to.” (Penny was  _ not _ an artist). 

I listened to them babble for awhile before I tuned them out. 

Agatha peeked at the clock. It was only seven. We’d been here an hour already, and I’d barely said a word. I wasn’t talkative usually, but I could see Penny eyeing me. She knew something was up (she always figured me out). 

“Merlin, I’ve got to go start my homework. I’ve got a paper due.” Agatha sighed, getting up and making her way to me.

My stomach flipped as she leaned over to give me a kiss (just on the cheek). I could smell her perfume, she was so close. Her lips pressed into my cheek, leaving a cold impression of whatever chapstick she was wearing. I could feel my face heat up as she walked out the door and Penny had a knowing smirk on her face. I wiped off the chapstick smudge. 

“Are you two really back together again? I thought you weren’t going to ask her out again.” Pen scolded (she loved us both, but she thought we kinda sucked as a couple). 

“But  _ she _ asked  _ me _ out this time. I was too shocked to say no.” I mumbled. 

She rewarded me with a look of pure shock for that. “Would you have said no?”

I didn’t look up to meet her eyes. I don’t know what I would have said. I don’t know if Agatha and I are endgame. I don’t know anything anymore. 

“Si?” She asked, coughing up a lung in the process. I was half-tempted to open the window, wondering if the fresh air would do her any good. 

“I dunno, Pen. Everything’s so- and then the phone- also under the bed… Baz and Agatha… the team- what do I do?” 

The room was silent for a minute, “You might have to elaborate on phones, beds, and Baz and Agatha before I can help. I don’t really see the connection.” She said, reaching for the tissues. I got up and locked the door, and then tossed her the box of tissues before she fell out of bed trying to get them. Stubborn. 

So I explained everything; David, the money, Agatha, Baz being pissy, having to quit the team… I still hadn’t told her about Baz and I becoming kinda friends. I don’t think I want to. Hanging out with Baz in the mornings still felt like a dirty little secret (has he told Dev and Niall?). 

“Firstly, you don’t owe your dad a cent. Just ignore him. He can’t do anything about it.” 

I gulped. She had no idea what David Snow would do to me if he didn’t get what he wanted. I never told Penny what home was like. She’d worry too much over her summer vacation, and she already worried enough about me during the school term. 

“Secondly, Baz is always pissy. What do you care this time?” I felt my face heat up. 

“Yeah, I’m just… sick of arguing all the time, I guess.” She gave me a half-hearted sympathy-smile. 

“Third, you definitely shouldn’t quit the team. I know Baz drives you crazy and you probably don’t want to mess up with Agatha this time, but you love swimming. You should see your face when you talk about it. And I want to see you compete this weekend.” 

“But-” 

“And lastly, Agatha. You’ve wanted this forever. What’s the problem now? Come on, Simon. Maybe she’s really over her bad boy phase.” Penny sniffled, blowing her nose for the tenth time in five minutes. 

My heart skipped a beat. “Huh?” 

“When she dumped you for Baz?” Penny shrugged. 

“She dumped me for Baz.” I whispered. 

Penny’s eyes went wide and moony. “Oh, Si… I thought you knew.” 

“I’ve got to go-”

“Si!” she yelled after me, but I was already gone. 

It took me ten minutes to find Agatha’s room in the maze that is Watford’s girl dormitory, but I found it. I FOund it, and I found her humming along with her music. 

“Agatha.” I huffed, slightly out of breath (you’d really think I was in better shape by now).

“Oh, hey Simon.” She smiled, pulling out a headphone. I looked into her eyes. They were soft and brown and she looked like she had no idea what was coming. 

“Why’d you ask me out again? I thought you said you were done. You owe me an explanation.” I demanded. 

“I wasn’t ready for a serious relationship before. But I missed you; talking to you, our inside jokes, I _ missed _ you. A lot.” 

“But why now? Did Baz reject you?” I snapped. I knew I was being cruel. I knew I was ruining this. It was unnecessary, but a life with Agatha is all I’d wanted since first year. That, and a new roommate. And she’d dumped me to chase after my roommate, the boy who’d been out to get me for years. And when that didn’t work out- 

“Excuse me?” Agatha looked horrified. And a little pissed. But I wasn’t backing down now. This argument was years in the making. Even before our breakup made things tense, we never confronted each other about things. We never  _ talked.  _

“You dumped me for Baz.” I swear the room dropped a few degrees. A draft floated in through the open window and I shivered (still wishing I’d thought enough to bring a jumper). 

I could see the muscles in her jaw tighten, “ _ Penelope _ .” 

So she really did. She dumped me for Baz, and she had the nerve to tell Penny. 

“Seriously, Agatha?” I asked. My voice cracked. I thought I’d finished with that by sixth year, but apparently not. 

She wouldn’t look me in the eye. “Simon… we weren’t working out, and I know you hate him but Baz and I always got along-”

“You dumped me because you would rather be with him.” I said. My voice had never sounded so cold. 

“But we’re together now-” She whispered. 

“That’s where you’re wrong. No, we’re not.” I finished. I ignored the prickling heat behind my eyes. Losing Agatha was too much for me. Especially after the past two days I’d had. This was the cherry on top of the sundae. 

It surprised me that the thing I wanted to do most was go to the pool with Baz, to our little world inside of the Watford natatorium where nothing else mattered. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im afraid that this kinda makes agatha seem heartless but really i love her everybody messes up okay and itll all work out i promise


	9. chapter nine

**Baz**

I’d gotten a call from Fiona. Father didn’t want me to come home for Christmas unless I “changed my lifestyle.” Apparently, he’d found one of my old journals. The thought of him searching through my things was enough to put me on edge. I hated it when people touched my stuff. It’s not like I had anything to hide (well, except those journals). 

When I tried to reason with Fiona, she yelled at me, telling me she was only relaying a message. He couldn’t even be bothered to tell me himself. I sometimes wonder what would happen if my mother was still alive. Would she care that I’m gay? 

She might. 

She might  _ not. _

And if anyone could change my father’s mind, it was Natasha Pitch. Natasha Pitch had been a firecracker. When I was little, she would bring me to work with her at Watford and teach me every last thing she knew. She’d talk to me in every language she knew. Natasha Pitch was the best thing that ever happened to Watford. She burned too bright.

After Snow walked by hand in hand with Wellbelove, I hung up on Fiona and stalked back to the dorm. The room was a mess, but I was too angry to be bothered by it right now. I grabbed my keys, my suit, and my bag. I didn’t bother checking to see if any of the staff were out roaming the grounds. Everyone knows they couldn’t care less about what the students get up to after curfew. Not even the boys who were still hanging around with their girlfriends in the girls dorm.

I needed to blow off some steam, and I hadn’t been in the water in almost two days. And we had the meet tomorrow night-

We had the meet Friday, if I could convince Snow not to quit. He was about as stubborn as my father though and the thought of having to grovel at his feet made me sick. 

When I finally got the rusty old door to open, I could see the water glittering in the dark. I changed into my suit, only bothering to turn on the office light. Swimming in the dark was an entirely different experience. It was magic. 

I started on one of the practices I had missed, before giving up and just drifting around the diving pool. 

I was half-asleep in the water when I heard the heavy side door slam. The main lights flickered on, illuminating Snow. 

“Baz?” he asked meekly. He looked… not okay. His eyes were red and a bit puffy, which stuck out in comparison to the rest of him which was as pale as a vampire in winter. 

“Snow.” I raised an eyebrow at him. Why would he come here? Was he looking for me? I thought he was quitting. Why would he come to the pool if he was quitting? Why would he come to the pool at 11 PM on a thursday?

I don’t know how long I stared at him, trying to figure him out, but eventually he cleared his throat and I turned away. Simon Snow was a mystery even I couldn’t solve (I don’t think he could solve himself if he tried). 

I saw small ripples as Simon sat in the gutter of the diving pool. I glanced back at him over my shoulder, where he was kicking his feet in the water and making that face. That face where he was trying to gather his thoughts. 

“Spit it out, Snow.” I rolled my eyes.

“Money- and then, you know, so I ended it, even though it was a day, but maybe that’s not why I ended it, and then Penny says I shouldn’t quit but-”

“You can’t fucking quit on me.” I hiss. He looks startled. 

He closes his eyes and tugs a hand through chlorine-matted curls. “I know you spent all that time practicing with me in the mornings but-”

“ _ No.  _ You don’t understand, Snow. If you quit, I miss my last chance to compete.”

_ Silence _ . “What?” he whispers softly. 

“If you quit, we won’t have enough boys to compete this season.”

“Wait, really?” 

I nodded. 

“ _ Fuck. _ ” he moaned. He put his head in his hands and I swam over to his side, looking up at him from the water. 

“Why do you want to quit so bad?”

“I’m so behind on my schoolwork and I don’t even know what I’m going to do about the money-” 

“I’ll help you with your schoolwork.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah… we’re kinda… friends now, right?” I don’t meet his eyes. 

“Yeah. Yeah, we’re friends.” I looked up, and I couldn’t help but smile in response to the grin on his face. He slid into the water and started swimming lazy circles around the pool. 

We were quiet for awhile, floating and listening to the sound of the wind outside. “Do you owe someone money?” I ask, unable to bear the silence any longer. 

“My dad- he, yeah.” Snow chokes out. I turn to meet his eyes. 

“Snow.” 

He takes a deep breath. “David, he likes to gamble, and he stole all my money, and now he owes a guy- I need three grand by next week or he’s going to and I can’t- I don’t want him to, and I’ve been so careful so he won’t…” 

“Your dad is an ass.” I huff. He meets my gaze. 

“Yeah.”

“You don’t owe him any money.” 

“I have to-”

“What can he do if you don’t, huh? Just ignore him, Snow.”

“What can he do?  _ What can he do? _ He can pull my scholarship, drag me back to that hellhole, and spend the rest of my pathetic life torturing me. He can take out those old kitchen knives that I tried to hide, and he can cut open my hand again. He can beat me with that godforsaken cane he carries around to make him look like a mobster-sometimes I think he is, he definitely knows some-”

I watched in horror as Simon described the horrific things his father had done to him over the years. Suddenly, my spat with my father seemed like a fun family outing. The random burns and cuts that decorated Simon’s abdomen finally made sense. He wasn’t in a car crash. I should’ve known. I’ve been his roommate for seven years. 

I reached out for him. “Snow-”

“And he-”

“ _ Simon. _ ” I let out a pained moan. I couldn’t listen to him go on about these things. He stopped. I reached out with one hand to brush the tears from Simon’s face. I think I was crying too. 

“Simon-” I began, only to be cut off when he smashed his mouth into mine.

I’d never kissed anyone before. I’d certainly never dreamed (well, I did  _ dream _ ) that I’d get to kiss Simon Snow. After a brief moment of shock, I opened my mouth to his and slid my hands into his hair. It wasn’t really as soft as I thought it would be, but I figured the chlorine levels of the Watford pool might have something to do with that. He held my face in his hands, steady and soft like he was holding glass. The last person to touch me like this, caring and gentle, was my mother. 

Unfortunately, staying above water and kissing didn’t really go hand in hand. Within seconds we were half-drowned and giggling, swimming to the ladder. He pinned me up against the ladder, a foot between my legs on a rung and his arms holding onto the handles on either side of my head. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he kissed me again. And again. 

And again. 

I felt like I was floating on a cloud, as Simon reached out to brush my hair back from my face. He finally pulled away, breathless. I tried to regain composure, and ignored the panic that had begun to set in.  _ it was an accident. He didn’t mean it. He’s dating Agatha. He’s not gay. He’s just kidding.  _

My eyes were wild. He followed me out of the pool, so I tossed him an extra towel. I kept my back to him. I don’t think I could handle seeing the horror on his face. 

“Baz,” he breathed behind me, “Baz, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, you probably didn’t want me to - I won’t do that again, I swear…” 

My heart skipped a beat. “Shut the fuck up. Shut up and kiss me again.” I hissed. He grinned like a fool.  _ I  _ was the fool. 

I backed him into the locker rooms, kissing every mole on his face, and his neck and...

Pressed up against the dark green lockers, Simon broke the kiss. “I think I’ve changed my mind,” 

My heart stopped immediately. I desperately tried to disentangle myself from the crushing grip he had around my waist. 

He leaned to whisper in my ear, “I’ve changed my mind. We’re definitely not  _ friends _ .” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;D


	10. chapter ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the meet

**Simon**

I held my breath. The room was too quiet and if I made a sound, I’d ruin everything.

I’d ruin the snow on the window sill, the hum of people down the hall, the sound of laughter from the courtyards, the boy in my arms. 

Baz’s head was nestled under my neck. I couldn’t actually feel my arm anymore and I think my fingers were throbbing, but that didn’t really seem important right now. What  _ was _ important was that I didn’t screw this up. Every second that beautiful boy stayed in my arms was another second I could pretend he’d really let me have this; him,  _ us.  _

Everything about him was perfect. He always had been. It used to drive me crazy. Up the walls. He was gorgeous and smart and athletic (which I appreciated, really,  _ really  _ appreciated; with my hands on his abs). 

It amazed me how much one kiss could change everything. It amazed me how much I wanted to kiss him again. 

I felt my heart skip a beat as his fingers curled into my shirt and he sucked in a tiny breath. When baz was sleeping was the only time he was unguarded. I rarely get to see him like this. Sometimes in the morning, but he’s normally facing the wall, so it’s not possible to see his face. And he’s always asleep after me. Always. 

With a small yawn, Baz opened his eyes. I could see the flash of panic cross them before he was able to gain control of his emotions. He was an emotional lockbox. 

I kissed his forehead and he visibly relaxed. “Good morning, darling,” I whispered, my heart in my throat. Was ‘darling’ too much? Would I scare him off?

He pressed his lips under my jawline. Gently, nervously. “Mornin’,” his breath was hot on my skin, but his lips were so, so cold. 

“We have breakfast in ten minutes,” Baz mumbled, glaring at his watch. 

I jumped.

“Fuck, Snow, you just kneed me in the stomach!” Baz groaned, but I was already half-dressed.

“ _ Baz, _ get up! We have to go.”

“You go ahead, Snow. It’s not like I could walk in with you.” he yawned again, face-down on my pillow. 

I stopped, my shirt half-buttoned. Baz was right. The school blows up if I so much as look at Agatha, today would already be hell after last night. I still hadn't even got the chance to tell Baz what happened with Agatha. I can’t walk into the dining hall with Baz. I can’t be seen with Baz at all. Not even Penny can know. 

Not even Penny.

Apparently Baz had been watching the emotions flicker across my face. He'd always read me like a book (according to Penny, I just had really obvious facial expressions) “What’s the matter, Snow? Having second thoughts? Wanna run off and tell the whole school how gay I am?” 

I frowned. He was just being mean because he was nervous. I knew that. I took a deep breath. Baz wanted this. Baz wanted  _ this _ as much as I did. “I’ll see you at the meet later,” I said, pressing a kiss to his mouth. 

“Okay.” I loved watching Baz blush.

* * *

 

“Simon? What happened? Are you okay? You’re ten minutes late.” Penny was back at our table, with an entire box of tissues in hand. She hates missing classes. I hate missing breakfasts. 

“Baz… turned off my alarm.” I mumbled, grabbing a scone from the plate on the table. It was cold, but I didn’t really mind. 

“What were you guys fighting about now?” She rolled her eyes, and swallowed a few pills. Probably those vitamin ones her mom swears fix anything. Penny's mom was a bit.. eccentric. I'd only met her a few times, but she was fun, if a bit odd. She was just like Penny. 

“Swim.” I shrugged, cursing the blush rising up the back of my neck. 

Her eyes lit up, “Oh! Don’t you have a meet tonight?” I nodded slowly, buttering my scone. Watford had the best damn scones in the whole world. 

“Agatha and I are going to come watch. You are competing, aren’t you?” She sniffled, her voice dropped an octave. 

I stifled a laugh, before I realized what she said.  “Agatha?”

“Your girlfriend?” Penny raised an eyebrow. 

“Oh my god, Simon. What did you do?” Penny shrieked, throwing a dirty tissue at me.

“We broke up again, I… for good this time, Penny. I’m really done.” I mumble, taking a sip of tea. I’ve moved on. 

Penny sighed, “no wonder she’s sitting at Baz’s table again.” 

I turned my head around so quickly I almost got whiplash. There she was, sitting up alongside Baz, laughing and talking. Dev was watching her intently, and I watched him kick Baz under the table. 

This time it wasn’t Agatha making me jealous. 

The day was agonizingly long. All I wanted to do was be near Baz. In our room, in the pool, in the locker rooms. I'd take a broom closet at this point. I could feel Baz’s gaze on me the whole day, too. At lunch, he pulled me into Miss Possibelf’s room and kissed me, then abruptly left me in a haze five minutes later. My lips were swollen and red. I paced around her classroom, fixing my hair and making myself presentable again. 

Penny still gave me an odd look when I showed up to lunch ten minutes late. She always knew, damn her. But she didn't say a word. I wonder if she knew exactly what.

Agatha was back at Baz's table and I swallowed my anger. I hadn't had a chance to speak to her since last night. I kinda wanted to apologize for yelling, even if I was still livid with her. 

* * *

 

The meet started at four. Warm-ups at 3:30. The other school would be arriving in ten minutes, and the bleachers had begun to fill up with teachers and students, notably Penny and Agatha, both glaring at me from the front row. Agatha must’ve filled Penny in on our fight. I still don't see how  _I_ was the one in the wrong. Either way, Penny should be happy. She never thought Agatha and I were fit for each other. 

I cornered Baz on deck. “You made me ten minutes late to lunch. Do you  _ want  _ Penny to find out?” I whispered, poking a finger into his chest. 

“You enjoyed it.” 

“That’s besides the point.” I blushed. 

He laughed, “time to warm-up, Snow.” 

The warm-up went by too quickly and before I knew it the beep went off for the first race to start. I watched as Baz dove into the water, anchoring the “A” relay. He once explained to me that the anchor; the fourth person of the relay, is the fastest. They’re supposed to bring it home.

The beautiful bastard passed the boys on the lanes on either side and finished in second, losing a touch-out to lane four. A promising start to the meet. Baz had tried to explain all the scoring to me a few weeks ago, but it was all too confusing (don't even get me started on dive-score conversions). I couldn’t really keep track of what was happening, it was a mess. All the boys were whooping and hollering, the pool was chaos, and the scoreboard ticked away; with us neck-in-neck with the other team. 

“Snow!” Coach shouted, waving me over. My stomach flipped as I jogged to his place by the timing table. This couldn’t be good. Was he going to pull me from my exhibition? I really hope not. I need a proper time (practice times can't qualify for sectionals). And exhibition races don’t even count for score (just time), so it shouldn’t be a problem… 

“Niall is sick, he caught that damn bug going around. You’re swimming third seat for the fly.” 

I choked, “Wha-what?” 

“The 100 fly event is the first event after the dive break. Stretch, and get ready to start off the second half. Lane five.”  

I gulped as he sent me off with a wink and a pat on the back. I immediately lost feeling in my fingers. 

I began to pace up and down the deck, the sounds of the pool and the boys and the crowd fading behind the blood pounding in my head. My haze broke with a voice in my ear, “what was that about?” 

_Baz_. Baz was standing behind me, dripping wet and breathing heavily. He soaked me as he ran his hands through his hair, cap in his opposite hand. He just finished another race. Coach had him in as many freestyle events as possible. 

“Coach, he, I-” the scoreboard lit up red. 

He smirked at me, “spit it out, Snow.” 

“Niall’s sick. I’m in for the fly.” I could barely breathe. 

He nodded, smiling, “you’re ready.”

I prayed Penny and Agatha couldn’t see the blush on my face. 

Watching the divers was an entirely different experience, and second-handedly terrifying. From the angle I was at, it looked like they were going to smash their faces onto the board every time (they didn’t).

Before I knew it, the dive break was over. Apparently, our divers  _ suck.  _ Baz grumbled nearby, saying that we were going to be tied with them again. We had pulled ahead in the last two events before the break. 

We’d done practice races in practice, but all the sudden it felt entirely different. The team was depending on me. 

“ _ Take your mark,”  _ Okay, breathe. 3, 2- “ **BEEP**!” 

I launched off the block, sliding into the water. The whole race was a blur of water in my lungs, people cheering, Baz’s face on the side of the pool, and burning.  _ Oh god,  _ my muscles were burning. And my legs. I didn’t know if I was going to make it to the end. I could see a boy in the lane next to me a few yards ahead of me. I had a 25 left. 

Before I knew it, my fingers smashed into the wall, and I gasped for breath. I could hear ringing, and Baz’s voice. Baz’s voice, above all the rest. 

“You fucking did it, you bloody idiot!” He screamed. The whole team was cheering. I glanced at the board. I’d placed fourth, of eight boys. My jaw dropped. Second, for our team. I raced a 1:03.97. I could barely get out of the pool. My legs were jelly, and my heart was beating faster than I thought possible. Somebody wrapped an arm around me, and I could hear Coach behind me. 

“You did it, Simon.” Baz mumbled in my ear, squeezing my arm. I wanted to jump on him, kiss him. It was his doing; he spent so much time with me on the fly. He pushed me harder than Coach, harder than the days I practiced fly with Niall. 


	11. chapter eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (finally)

**Baz**

The meet was over before I knew it. The whole experience was just as amazing as I remembered and this time I actually got to compete (I was too slow when I first joined). We didn’t win - I wasn’t surprised. But we came close. Next time. We still have nine more meets to go this season. 

With practice (especially with those damn relay starts) we would win a few this season. 

A few of the boys seemed pissy that we didn’t win, but I couldn’t care less. I was ecstatic - the past two days had been some of the best days of my life. All I wanted to do was to go back to our room and lie down. After the last two hours of cheering and hollering, I could use some peace and quiet (and some kisses). I watched Simon from across the pool, shaking hands and chatting with boy on the other team, and watching Bunce and Wellbelove on the stands as they tried to get his attention (Bunce looked happy; Wellbelove looked quite the opposite). I wonder who shoved a stick up her ass. 

I helped Coach clean up the pool deck, astonished at how messy it got in the span of two hours. 

“You did good tonight, Pitch. We might even have a chance at winning something this season,” He chuckled, “maybe we’ll get a participation award this time around.” 

I let out a single, hollow laugh, “Thanks, Coach.” 

“Are you going to go out with all the boys?”   
All the boys were going off campus to the 24-hour diner to grab a bite to eat, and celebrate, “No, I don’t think so. I’m drained.” He nodded in agreement. 

I thought I was the last one in the locker room, when Snow grabbed my arm and tugged me behind a corner. My heart skipped a beat (half fear, half excitement). The devious grin on his face made me weak in the knees. His lips were on mine before I could say so much as a ‘hi.’ 

“What-what if someone comes in?” I whisper. Snow shrugs. Half his words are shrugs. I break the kiss, and he hums low and disappointed. 

“Let’s just go back to our room, alright?” Snow nodded with a permanent grin, and followed me out of the locker room. When we left the building, were were immediately ambushed by Bunce. I looked over her shoulder, expecting to find Wellbelove nearby, but Agatha had vanished. Had she and Snow had a spat? With a sinking feeling, I remembered they were technically dating still. Would Snow break up with her for me? I didn’t let myself believe he’d ever chose me over his ‘Golden Destiny.’ 

Apparently we had more problems than Snow’s unresolved relationship with Wellbelove. “Simon, your dad is here.” Bunce said it like a question, but without any obvious concern. I gathered he hadn’t really mentioned his abusive father to Bunce, but Snow went visibly rigid. She had to notice that. 

“Where?” he asked lowly. 

Bunce glared at me over Simon’s shoulder, “Screw off, would you? Could you eavesdrop any more obviously?” 

Snow whipped around to look at me. I’d never seen Simon look as terrified as he did in that moment. 

“Good night to you, as well, Bunce.” I tipped my imaginary hat, and she rolled her eyes. 

I watched nervously as Bunce led Simon towards his dad, who was leaning on the gates. 

For as well as she claimed to know him, I was surprised Bunce hadn’t stopped him and interrogated him yet. 

I watched as Snow’s dad dismissed Bunce. I watched as he argued with Snow (I dialed 999, thumb hovering over the call button). I watched Bunce hide out of sight, camera in hand (I shouldn’t have underestimated Bunce; of course she noticed). I watched as she recorded them (I should’ve thought of that). I watched Simon’s dad strike him across the face. 

I watched Simon crumble to the ground. I pressed call, spouting my location and sputtering on about Snow and David as I watched Bunce scramble to his side, stepping between Snow and his father’s raised hand. 

I tackled Snow’s father to the ground without a thought, waiting for emergency services. Penny watched me curiously as a I tousled with David. There was no way I was letting him leave, not when I had the chance to free Simon from his clutches. 

I listen impatiently as Penny spoke softly to Snow, cradling his face, and berating him for not telling her. 

“How’d you know?” He mumbled through his tears. 

“I can read you like a street sign.” 

“Isn’t the phrase supposed to be ‘like a book?’” Simon furrowed his brows. 

“Yeah, but reading a street sign is faster and easier.” She laughed, and Simon joined her. His laugh was wet with tears.

* * *

 

The rest of the night was a blur. Penny went with Snow, and they took away his father in cuffs. 

I went back to our room. There was nothing else I could do for him, nothing that wouldn’t make Penelope (or anyone else) suspicious. I paced around, showering twice to pass the time until Simon came back. I wanted to see him okay, standing right in front of me where I could keep him away from everyone trying to hurt him. I wanted to thank Bunce for being rational enough to catch his father on camera; the proof that would put him away and keep Simon out of his reach. I wished it were that easy for everyone else. It shouldn’t have been so easy, and so hard at the same time. 

I wish I had known sooner, and that I could’ve done something. I can finally understand why he loved Watford so much. 

After an eternity of wrecked nerves and violent pacing, I could hear footsteps. The hinges of the door squealed as Simon slowly peeked inside. There was a bruise on his cheek; a blotch of yellow and purple and blue glowing underneath the moles and freckles scattered across his left cheek. 

I heard Bunce outside. “Just go to sleep, okay Simon?”

He nodded vigorously, already closing the door behind him. “Yeah. Good night, Pen. Thank you.” 

He was silent as he met my gaze. It felt like forever before he started towards me, falling into my arms. I caught him, pulling him close. “Shh… you’re okay. You’re home.” I mumbled, pressing a kiss in his hair. He wrapped his arms around my waist.

I ran my hands through his hair unconsciously, pulling Snow next to me on the bed. He murmured in distinctively; I couldn’t make out a word he said. I didn’t really care to, because the hum of his voice resonated in my chest, more powerful than my heartbeat. 

I was half-asleep before I heard Simon mumbling my name, gently shaking my shoulder, “Baz,  _ Baz. _ ” 

I blinked open my eyes, and Simon was looking at me intently. “What? Is everything okay?” 

He cocked his head and beamed at me, his chin pressing into my stomach. He shook his head, and that beautiful blush shown out, even beneath his ever-darkening bruise. 

“I’ve never been better.” 

“ _ That’s _ what you woke me to say?” I huffed, smiling back at him. He was infectious. 

“I forgot.” He frowned, but the light stayed in his eyes. 


	12. chapter twelve

**Simon**

I woke up in Baz’s arms for the second morning in a row (well technically he was in _my_ arms yesterday). It was by far my favorite thing. Maybe even more than Cook Pritchard’s sour cherry scones (maybe, they’re damn good scones).

Waking up felt even better, knowing that I’d never have to see David again. The police had aided me in filing a restraining order, and he would go to trial for his domestic abuse, drug, and money issues (apparently he hadn’t paid any taxes on the shack in a long time).

Being this close to him, I was wrapped up in the scent of his cedar and bergamot soap (and candle, and shampoo, and cologne, I think). All Baz’s things smelled of cedar and bergamot, and I’d never had the courage to ask why.

His fingers were cold on my skin, lightly wrapped around my hip. I took advantage of my situation to watch him; I rarely got the chance to see Baz at his most vulnerable. I hope that will change given that we’re… something else. Not enemies; and I told him we weren’t friends, but neither of us actually said it was something _more._ My stomach twisted with that thought, but I was (mostly) certain he felt the same.

I don’t know if he’s ready to be open about our _this_ with the whole school. Baz has always been a really private person, even with people he didn’t hate. Whenever I used to question Dev or Niall about Baz’s plots or whereabouts, they didn’t have a clue.

No wonder Agatha had always been attracted to him. Who doesn’t like a good mystery?

I’d spent seven years trying to map Baz out; his every move, every expression, every word.

I failed.

Ultimately, I missed the biggest secret Baz was keeping. _This_ (he went to extensive lengths to hide his feelings, though. I think pushing me down the stairs was too far). I think I needed to miss it until now. I don’t think I was ready for something like this before now, even if Baz was. Something real. If I found out a year ago, let alone a month ago, how Baz felt, or worse; how _I_ felt, I would’ve lost it. Fallen off the end of the Earth, my whole world upside down (it was still upside down now, but I think it’s good. It’s really good). I didn’t want to mess this thing with Baz up, not the way I messed up with Agatha (over and over again).

I messed up badly with Agatha. And this time, she messed up with _me._ It was quite a new (and not really pleasant) feeling. I hoped she didn’t feel like this every time I fucked over our relationship.

That doesn’t mean I don’t want to be her friend still.

A bird on the window sill interrupted my train of thought, and Baz stirred. His eyes fluttered open, meeting mine.

He furrowed his brow, “Don’t look at me like that,”

“Like what?” I smirked.

“Like… like you don’t hate me.” he squirmed.

“I _don’t_ hate you.” (quite the opposite, really).

“Are we… what is this?” he wrinkled his nose. I didn’t even know Baz was physically capable of looking that cute. My gut wrenched (partially because he kneed me in the groin on accident, but still).

I shrugged (not the best response). The way he was looking at me was making me nervous. _He wants this too, Simon._

“Aren’t you still dating Wellbelove?” he whispered.

Now I was the one squirming, “Um… no. definitely not.”

“What did you do, Snow?”

I giggled nervously. I recounted my spat with Agatha the other night and before I knew it, he was laughing. I rarely got to hear him laugh.

“Good thing that I was already gay for you that day she tracked me down.” He laughed.

“You were?”

He shook his head,“Oh Snow, you have no idea. You oblivious boy.”

I blushed.

“So no. I’m not dating Wellbelove. I think… I think I’m dating Baz Pitch.”

Baz had opened his mouth to speak, but with that he closed it again, forming a shy smile, “Yeah, _yeah_.”

I crawled forward to kiss him. I hung over him, and I taunted him until he gave in and reached up to kiss me. I wish I had known Baz’s weaknesses sooner. I ran a hand through his hair (which was soft and silky, unlike mine that was more chlorine than hair). He pressed his lips onto the mole under my chin, following the trail down to the top hem of my shirt. I was tempted to let him take it off, but that goddamn bird squawked again (I don’t know what the whole fuss is over birdsong, it sounds like noise to me) reminding me it’s time for breakfast. If I was late twice in a row, especially on a Saturday, she would know something was up (and she wouldn’t give up until I caved).

“I’ve got to go.”

“You’re fucking with me, really?” Baz complained, letting me up.

I (attempted to) raise an eyebrow “unless you want Penny to figure out what’s up…?’

He rolled his eyes, but let me go without another protest.

Baz was still tossing around in his blankets as I made my way towards the door, “aren’t you getting up for breakfast?”

He shook his head.

“Do you want me to bring you something?”

He shrugged (yes). I couldn’t stop the smile that spread across my face as I left.

* * *

 

It had snowed a little last night; a dusting like the last time. This time I remembered my jumper and a scarf. I was practically skipping across the courtyard when I ran (literally) into Agatha.

“Merlin, Simon. Is your head made of stone?” she groaned.

“Sorry, Ags. Really. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

She nodded. After a moment of painful silence, I started towards the cafeteria again.

“I, uhh… I’ll just be going.”

Agatha grabbed my arm, spinning me back around to face her. “Simon. I really am sorry, you know. It was a childish mistake.”

“I… yeah. But that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t really think this is meant to be.”

Half of me expected her to be upset by that, but the fact that she wasn’t proved my point.

“You’re right. I’m not your golden destiny, and you’re not mine. I don’t really think there’s such a thing.” She smiled, but was hollow; blending in with the bleach white courtyard and the frigid air.

I shifted my weight. “I still care about you.”

This smile wasn’t nearly as empty. I didn’t need words to know she still cared about me too. Everything was just different now.

She left me alone in the courtyard with a ghost of a kiss on my cheek and a squeeze of my hand.

As I made my way towards the dining hall, I knew I would be late.

I didn’t really care. I’m glad that my spat with Agatha was resolved. I didn’t have many friends to lose.

Nothing between us would ever be like it was before, but I was quite certain that was more of a positive (just like my newfound relationship with Baz).

I wonder what Agatha would think of me and Baz. Does she still have feelings for him? I was half-tempted to ask her earlier, but it wasn’t really the right moment. I wonder what Penny would think. She’d probably remind me that I’m straight (am I?). Or that I hate Baz. Or that Baz hates me.

I wish that the dining hall wasn’t so far from my dorms (they were the two farthest buildings on campus). It’s like someone designed it to torture me (or coerce me into exercising). When I opened the doors, I was hit by the smell of bacon and eggs and scones and warm maple syrup.

As I found my seat next to Penny, guilt pooled in my stomach. Pen and I never kept secrets. But this wasn’t just my secret; it was Baz’s secret too. I couldn’t really tell Penny about Baz being gay (or that I was gay for him back) without hurting him (which was the last thing I wanted to do).

The cafeteria was always emptier on weekends, because everyone chose sleeping over food. I always wondered why they didn’t just make breakfast later.

Penny pushed some food around her plate. “Agatha told me about your fight.”

“Oh. Well I - I just spoke to her or my way over. I think we’re okay now.”

She nodded. “Maybe dating will finally work for you too, know that you’ve both gotten past your issues.”

I dropped my fork, starling her and Gareth behind me. “ _No,_ no. We’re not dating. We’re just friends. We’re both done with that. Really.”

“Oh?” penny’s facial expressions were strikingly similar to Baz’s.

I shrugged, and the rest of the meal went on in peace.

“So… if you two are really on good terms, does that mean we can have a sleepover party tonight like we did when we were younger?” Penny pleaded.

I’d forgotten about that. I used to sneak into Agatha’s room with Penny at night, and the three of us would hang out and watch movies on Agatha’s phone (her parents had the unlimited data plan).

“Has Agatha agreed to that?”

“She said she was up for it if you were.”

I smiled, “I’ll see you tonight. Same time?”

“Seven o’clock.”


End file.
